


Triatominae

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, gonta and ouma are very close, i just want less cursed content... if i have to write it myself then so be it, you can imagine what goes wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9474626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Major Endgame spoilers!! After the execution, Ouma is visited by Monokuma, who claims that because of his exceptional performance thus far, he's the only student in his class that's earned "after school tutoring"... that is, gaining his memories again. This is the tipping point of Despair and Hope in the Gifted Inmates Academy.





	1. Barber Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gonta's execution is done, and Ouma sleeps like a baby. Until Monokuma wakes him up with an interesting proposition. (Please read End Notes!)

That great big idiot deserved everything that came at him.

As the Ultimate Dictator, feelings of an insect like him never bothered Ouma. Everything and everyone was beneath him, so there really was no point in being concerned. Especially when it was Gonta.

He was an eyesore. An absolute idiot of a man. So trusting and gullible, yet so meek and quiet. Ouma was impressed by his size and his aura when he first saw him, but the second that "Thank you!" left his lips, any intrigue was squashed with disappointment and an urge to exploit that naive nature. It wasn't every day you found a human bulldozer that was as _smart_ as a bulldozer.

 

It was fun, to see his face contort in such depressing expressions. He cried like a child, apologizing over and over... And yet, for all his strength and muscle, there was such a horrified expression on his face when Ouma admitted what he'd done. No, rather, what he made Gonta do.

His execution was quite fun too. He was bound to the stake like he was at a witch hunt, with a laptop strapped to his chest, displaying the real culprit. His poor little avatar, all blank faced and childish, gazing straight into the void. Ouma assumed it was just there for show. Insult to injury, as it was. Monokuma was a fun one.

Like a plague, a swarm of mechanical wasps were ejected at him, faster than any normal insect. They all hit him, stinger first, and bounced away like bullet casings, and it continued in waves.

The way Gonta's own talent turned against him, hundreds and hundreds of these fake wasps causing his face to swell up like a balloon... He really looked the part of a fool.

The overgrown mantis-fly was a fun touch. Its bladed arm pierced right through him, spraying blood everywhere and splintering the pole he was tied to. Gonta, surprisingly, was still conscious, albeit in extreme pain. The mutant bug struggled to free its hand away from Gonta's body, and with each thrashing movement, opened the gaping wound further.

 

No one could survive that, for sure. So, with that, Ouma thought they were done. He was already turning his back, beginning to get bored of the the insect's pitiful display. But then he heard the explosion.

Ouma turned around slowly, confused. 'Wouldn't he just leave the body for us to despair at?' he thought, but his breath hitched when he saw the plumes of smoke. Gonta... What was left of him, it was burning up in a giant flame. He had to admit, even he felt a bit of despair at that. But when the curtain fell and they left the courtroom, even when eyes were full of rage towards him, when Himiko went running back to her room, when Kaito's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were paper white... Ouma didn't have a single care in the world.

 

\-----

 

"Upupupu!"

Ouma immediately heard the bear chuckling, the voice loud and clear in his ear. Ouma, still rather sleepy, rolled over and ignored the noise, but heard the sound of something falling to the floor and a comical "Oof!"

He rose up, eyes half open, and glanced over the side of his bed. Monokuma wasn't on a speaker this time, he'd actually taken the time to personally visit the boy himself. Concerning, but the teen wouldn't admit that. Monokuma's business certainly wasn't to kill him, that was for the students... Wasn't it? Ouma shoved those thoughts in the back of his head, and distracted himself by poking the stuffed bear with his feet.

"Aw, what do you want, Monokuma? Has another dead body been found? At this hour in the morning?"

"Rude child!" Monokuma jumped back on his feet, wobbling slightly, but smacked Ouma's foot away. "You must be dumber than you look! Have I ever done a personal announcement for anybody? You're just as important as everyone else to me, so you won't get any special treatment!"

Ouma rolled his eyes, but Monokuma laughed again. "Then again, maybe this is special treatment! After all, you're the only one who's earned after school tutoring!"

This caught his attention. His shoulders tensed and he threw the blanket away from him and stood in front of Monokuma. "After school tutoring? Sounds scaary. I'd be a fool to pass this up!" He took up a defiant pose and poked the bear on the nose. "Not."

This was likely some kind of punishment for manipulating the rules of the Killing Game to his advantage. Nothing scholarly ever sounded welcoming in this place. Especially graduation. Ouma shivered. He took a more defiant stance, feet planted firmly on the ground and chin up, though this made it hard to look at the short bear.

"You're going to have to take me by force! I, the Ultimate Dictator, will never let myself get subjugated if I can resist it!"

 

Monobear waved his arms wildly, looking around the room at an invisible audience. His voice came out much more high pitched and mocking than it had before. "It's not a punishment, what made you think it was a punishment? I'm a good headmaster who loves his students!" He leaned towards Ouma with the darker half facing him, and spoke in a deeper voice. "Even if you are a little shit who won't show respect for his elders."

The black and white bear began his odd walk towards Ouma's door, then paused, looking behind him with his eerie red eye. The grin on that side of his face seemed larger than usual. "Well? Let's play 'Follow the Leader!' I'm sure you've done that plenty of times before, what with your... _cuuuult_." The last word was a mocking, sarcastic bite, and Ouma pouted, but seethed on the inside.

"Now, be a good student and follow me already. You know what happens to bad kids when they don't follow Headmaster Monokuma's directions!" Begrudgingly, Ouma followed. As if there was a choice. Monokuma probably had plenty of ways to punish him if he stayed stubborn, as if after school tutoring didn't sound like one of them already.

 

It was still very early in the morning, so the hallways were dark and ominous, the only light coming from Monokuma's red eye, and even then, Ouma had to follow him closely to see it. No wonder he woke the child up at such a time... everyone would be asleep and even if someone were awake, they wouldn't be able to see the glow from the bear. Not to mention, Ouma couldn't see his hand in front of his face, much less recognize anything that would lead him back this path.

Monokuma was definitely worthy of being Ouma's rival for dictatorship, even if he was just a stupid bear.

"Alright, kid, now close your eyes. I don't want you to accidentally find your way back for another tutoring session!" A small paw slapped his shins. "I said shut 'em! Or do I have to make you?!" Ouma hesitated, but shut his eyes as Monokuma pulled on his pant leg, guiding him through the rest of the trip.

The room that Monokuma had finally lead him to looked like a surveillance room. It was an immensely huge room, the ceiling nowhere in sight, but it had sparse decorations. In the middle of the room, there was one desk, with a standard computer setup and a leather chair, and beyond it, a wall completely lined with screens, showing different students in different rooms.

He could see Saihara tossing and turning in his sleep, Shirogane sitting on her bed and silently crying, Kaito fidgeting and pacing the room as he cursed under his breath... everyone was here.

Looking closely at some of the other screens, Ouma could see older recordings playing. One screen showed Angie in her studio, excitedly splattering paint onto a canvas. Another, Toujo, calmly sweeping up an empty room.

 

"So... What is this? Are you trying to recruit me into despair? Show me the ropes?"

"Nope! Though that'd be delightful, it's too early for you! That's the big leagues. The top bears. That's why I'm running the game and you're playing it."

Ouma crossed his arms, his eyes glazing over a looping recording of Amami painting Kaede's nails. "Then what is it, bear? Trying to make me feel guilty for what I did? I'd do it again, you know. I'm a dictator, that was nothing to me."

Monokuma lazily spun himself around in a strange, almost drunken, dance. "I knooooow, you say it all the time... 'I've done nothing but bad things' and 'you should fear me and my cult' and blah blah. You gotta learn when to shut yer trap." He jumped up and grabbed Ouma by his scarf, firmly standing on his chest and glaring at his face. "I'm being a good guy right now. I'll do somethin' for you that I haven't done for aaaanybody before. I'll give back your memories! That's what tutoring is all about!"

 

Ouma blinked. Did he hear him right? He was willingly going to give him his memories back?

Though he didn't say it, he knew something was wrong at the beginning of the game, and not just because of the game itself. He couldn't have just gone from being enrolled at the Prison Academy to being in a Killing Game. A very personalized Killing Game too, considering that his belongings were already in his room and his study area was exactly to his liking.

He played off his shock by making a crooked smirk. "All my memories are right where they should be, I don't know what you're talking about."

Monokuma let out a shrill yell and began banging his head on Ouma's face in frustration. It would've been more intimidating if Monokuma's body wasn't so soft. It felt like a pillow was being pushed into his face instead of an enraged psycho. "Stupid goddamn kid! Don't give me your disrespect, or I'll change my mind and go pester someone else!"

Ouma's smirk faltered, and he fell silent as Monokuma caught his breath. "What's the catch? Why me?"

 

Monokuma hopped off of the teenager's chest and turned away from him, hands behind his back and whistling. When he turned to face Ouma again, there seemed to be a shadow over his face. "You're right on the brink of despair and hope. The despair everyone's felt so far has been the equivalent of getting a C+ on a quiz you studied on. Passing, but I expected more! That's why. I wonder how your old memories will change that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Some of this fic strays from canon on purpose and excerpts some things that would make some events not seem as impactful (ex. Gonta Avatar's last words to Ouma, Ouma's breakdown, etc.), but if there are any characterization tweaks or changes you'd like to tell me about, go ahead and message me!


	2. Coenose Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monokuma explains the memory resurfacing process and Ouma begins to see things he didn't want to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting an explanation of the process to be so long, but I felt like it had to happen, for the next chapters to make any sense. So if this chapter feels uneventful, it's because the explanation wasn't supposed to be that long...! Sorry, sorry!

It wouldn't be a tutoring session without diagrams. At least, that's what Monokuma claimed when he ordered Ouma to sit on the floor while he went searching for slideshow cards to present. Ouma's already thin patience was beginning to run out, and he was getting tired of humoring him. The bastard should get to the chase already and just give him his memories without all the pomp and circumstance.

"I'm still so sleepy, Mr.Headmaster, can we do this in the morning? You woke me up so early, I don't think I can stay awake... You can just do whatever needs to be done to me while I'm asleep, eh?"

"Can it! I spent a lot of time on these cards, so you better start changing your tone. Besides! It'll be less scary for you if you understand what's happening, so I just want to be a good little bear and show you."

The bear was definitely just doing it to gloat about his technology. It had nothing to do with how comfortable Ouma was, and the fact that he was sitting on the ground and not on the chair was a testament to that.

 

Monokuma finished organizing all of the cards and started his lecture from on top of the leather chair, flipping through various adorable drawings of Ouma's avatar from the simulation and the memory resurfacing process. He felt as though that was being a bit direct, considering the last trial, but neither one of them mentioned it.

"It'd be a waste of school budget if I used the whole kit and kaboodle just for a few months' worth of memory, so no stasis chamber for you! Wah waaahhh! But you do get to test out this brand spankin' new antidote to your memory loss!"

He flipped to an illustration of a syringe, Ouma, tv screens, and a brain.

"You'll get a shot and a couple of videos to drool at while the rest of your little brain works at full speed to get you up to date! Think of it as... a time of reflection."

"If I just need a shot, can I go back to my room and sleep? " Ouma yawned, a tear welling up in his eye. He rubbed it away, but emphasized how limp and slow his arm was.

"Enough about your goddamn beauty sleep! Ahem. BECAUSE the antidote is experimental, and we don't want any accidents to happen! Besides, using recent memories for your consciousness to focus on is easier on your mush brain than new experiences. Your brain is so stupid it needs a refresher while getting a refresher. Sad."

The headmaster bear punctuated this with an illustration card of Ouma with swirly eyes, watching a tv labeled 'Killing Game Memories' while a water jug labeled 'Old Memories' was being dumped into Ouma's exposed brain.

 

Ouma pouted and lolled his head back and forth, staring at the drawing Monokuma made. He shyly raised a hand and whined, "Aaah, but I'm scared... An experimental drug? How cruel, I'm not a guinea pig..."

Monokuma was clearly starting to get agitated, his foot tapping the chair rapidly and crossing his small arms, but he hadn't lashed out as many times as the teen thought he would. He really was insistent on this presentation.

"It's not dangerous! I know, because the antidote is a strain of a disease I used on other students! Upupupupu!"

Ouma edged away from the bear, disgust and fear in his face. He knew that there was a bigger catch. So, he'd get his memories, but at the cost of his health? What kind of a trade off was this?!

"Simmer down! I'm not finished explaining! This is why you kids always fall into despair so quickly... Your attention spans are as small as the paper parasols in my margaritas! If you'd just listen up and shut up, maybe some of you wouldn't have to stab each other in bathrooms! Geez!"

Ouma couldn't even begin to ask what he meant by all that, but he subdued his expression either way. If push came to shove, he could always just run away from Monokuma or smash the syringe. As Headmaster, he wasn't allowed to kill him, so it could work--

 

"I'm still talking! No dozing off during class!" The bear threw a piece of chalk at Ouma's forehead, despite not having a chalkboard or any place to hide it. The teen must've been drifting off while he was plotting.

"The disease isn't deadly, for the last fuckin' time! The worst it did was just give people some fevers n weak knees! But it reacted differently with every person. Upupupu..."

There was already a card that had a diagram of his explanation. It had a boy with white hair (who eerily resembled Amami, but more wild), a girl with spikey, colorful hair horns, and a girl with a bad haircut and a creepy smile. Ouma didn't recognize any of them, but he had to assume that they were also unlucky participants in another Killing Game before them.

 

"Y'see, some students got lame ass side effects, like gullibility or compulsive lying, but one student got an exceptionally different strain. In a game all about mystery and memory loss, she got her memories back, and she didn't have any of the disease's negative side effects! So I took a bit of a sample and did a bit of this and that and fairy dust, and voila! An instant cocktail for all your memory saving needs!"

Monokuma's voice was haunting and ecstatic... his excitement about the antidote's origin was worrying, but at the same time, intriguing. If anything, it proved how much work was put into this... The bear kicked his illustrations aside and hopped up onto the desk, pointing at the computer monitor.

"Your senses will get all weird, so you'll technically experience lots of memories again. It'll be in waves because your brain is that dumb, so while your head gets recovery time, you get to watch a highlight reel of your time in the Killing Game while the antidote takes effect. It's like double the memories! Now, siddown and let ya Headmaster stick ya Ultimate Dictatorship with one of these!" He revealed the syringe, which looked innocent enough, but in the hands of the bear, seemed like a death sentence.

 

Ouma followed the bear's rules, if only to avoid getting stabbed by a needle against his will. He'd gone this far, might as well go along with whatever came next. It was sure to keep him occupied, if all else failed. He sat himself comfortably in the leather chair while Monokuma rolled up the sleeve to Ouma's white jacket.

In a swift motion, Monokuma stuck the teen with the needle and injected him. It felt like any standard injection should have, which was a bit surprising. If it were Ouma, he would've made the injection painful to make the recipient afraid of what it would do to them. But, seeing as Ouma was the one being needled, he was fine with it being normal. The bear was in the middle of rudely slapping a band-aid on the injection spot when the dictator whined, "What is this? You said it'd give me back my memories or whatever!"

Monokuma tilted the darker side of his body towards Ouma, the grin once again seemingly larger than ever. "You teens, with that instant gratification crap. It'll kick in sooner or later, just wait."

 

And so he did. For a while, actually. It was beginning to be worrisome, as Monokuma refused to respond to anymore questions, ignoring him by flipping through the old channels on the wall of tvs. The computer was already going through video feed of the class introductions. The silence between them was still louder than the audio from any of the videos.

Ouma was about to question whether he just got pranked when visions began running through his head.

Quick snippets of people, a school, a street, shadows, all of it quickly passing by as if they were rapids in a river, out of focus and warped through the water. More and more visions, now more like blurs than images, swept across his mind, oil paint on glass, smearing and blending, going faster until it paused right at the entrance of a school. Ouma used that time to look at Monokuma, clearly in a panic.

"Is that what you call memory resurfacing?!" He hid his fear with anger, but he was shaking still. It was like watching a stranger filming their life through their eyes, but the whole thing was in rapid reverse. Monokuma didn't even turn to look at Ouma. He waved his hand at him while surfing the channels, mumbling, "Ah, don't worry about it. Your brain just kinda went full force without your permission. It'll go the way it's supposed to go in a minute."

"I want it to go the way it's supposed to right now! What the hell is your--"

 

Monokuma wasn't there anymore. He wasn't in the Killing Game. He was starting his first day of high school. The air smelled like rain and faint magnolia blossoms, the wind picking up the scents just enough for Ouma to be comforted by them. He tugged at the sleeve of his gakuran and looked in apprehension at the large building before him. It wasn't much bigger than normal high schools, but imagining what kind of people were in there... He'd heard that this was a school of delinquents, and thinking of what they'd do to him just from surface level observations...

The thought was too much. He reached inside of his messenger bag for his schedule. He wrote down all he possibly needed to know for the day on it, highlighted rooms, drew red arrow paths across the school, but his handwriting was shaky. He squinted at it, and before he realized it, there was someone peering over his shoulder, also staring intensely.

Ouma jumped and accidentally let out a squeak, to which he quickly clapped his hands over his mouth. God. He must look like an idiot. Please don't let the bullying start here, he hadn't even entered the school...! Hesitatingly, he turned around, and saw that he was just staring into another boy's stomach. Whoever this was, they were tall. And Ouma didn't appreciate that, he already had personal issues about his height, he didn't need a giant bully to start teasing him too.

"I'm sorry! It's my first day and I forgot my map, so I was looking off of yours... But I think I'm kind of lucky. I think you're in my homeroom!"

Ouma looked up, and though in the memory, this was a stranger, to Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Dictator, he felt his stomach drop and a sense of bitterness fill his heart.

"I'm Gonta Gokuhara! It's nice to meet you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you don't know what disease Monokuma is referring to, it's the Despair Disease from SDR2, and specifically the Memory disease that Mikan got. If you have any critiques on how I write, please comment so I can fix it!


	3. Masked Hunter Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma has to learn who Gonta is all over again.

The giant before him indeed was Gonta Gokuhara. The wild hair and red eyes couldn't belong to anyone else. But there was an edge to them that Ouma had never seen before. The effect was subtle enough to not understand its source, but it was colder and darker than he remembered. He was leaning slightly over him to read the schedule in his hands, and in the sunlight, cast a shadow over the smaller teen.

Looking at Gonta like this was strange. Ouma felt like he was in a dream, observing himself in his own body, and that body was feeling an overwhelming amount of fear. Did this make him a coward? What a disappointment. That thought was quickly taken away and replaced with the memory's thoughts. God, why is he so BIG?

There was a long silence between them, threaded together with the hollow, scratchy taps of leaves skimming the pavement. Gonta broke through the waiting and expectations by smiling at Ouma. Though, that didn't seem right either. When he used to smile, it was effortless and cavity inducing. When he smiled, it was with his entire being, and you could feel the positivity radiating in waves from him. But this time, his eyes didn't change, and it was like his face was just going through the motions. A fake smile slapped into place for the sake of not seeming angry. Though not enough to scare him, it was... offputting.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I left a lot of my things at home. I didn't think the school would be so big."

Ouma spared a quick glance at the pamphlet in his hands, the name "Shiroiwa Junior High School" in big, bold letters. He supposed it was a bit of a dense thing to do, leaving things at home on the first day, but he wasn't going to admit it to his face. Not to someone who was in his class, for the love of God.

"It's okay, don't worry... " His voice was as faint as the breeze, and he cleared his throat. Don't seem scared. He can tell if you're scared. Guys like him always can. "So, class 2-Y? I guess we can walk there together!" Idiot. Why did you offer to walk with him? He'll dump you into the nearest trash can. Didn't you learn your lesson from your last school? He prepared for a bitter laugh, a sneer, a hand going over his head to shake his skull around like some kind of toy. Something to make him regret his words.

To Ouma's surprise, the entirety of the giant -Gonta, his name is Gonta- seemed to soften at the proposal. It was like watching a stone statue made of blocks and corners smoothing into curves and slopes. One part of Ouma was in awe of the change, but the other was unimpressed. This was just him acting how he should, and it took him long enough. Gonta nodded, taking in a deep breath, and replied, "I guess." The words were meant to sound uninterested, blunt and bored. But they carried unintentional brightness.

 

Ouma took the lead, as he was the one with the map, and Gonta followed behind him, still looking over the smaller teen as he muttered to himself. His face was completely focused on the scribbles marked through the paper, and he walked into various things around the hallways. A couple times, Gonta steered him away from walls, and at one point, Ouma nearly fell down the stairs, but he caught him by the back of his collar. He swung him back towards the hall, and in the pit of the smaller teen's gut, he braced himself to be thrown onto the floor. But he was placed back on his feet, safe, but without grace, as he stumbled to get balance. He felt like he was being handled like a kitten. Once he was composed himself, Ouma apologized -he should be the one apologizing, handling me like that- and the other merely nodded.

They eventually got to the classroom together, Gonta reaching in front of Ouma and sliding the door open for him while he stuffed the map into his pocket. Though the purple haired teen was initially frightened of his classmate, the walk had soothed a bit of his worry. He hadn't insulted him yet, and the most manhandling he'd done was to stop him from getting hurt. Maybe this guy isn't so bad--

"Yo, Gokuhara! There you are, you big fuck, didja get lost or somethin?"

Ouma heard the rough voice call from across the room, and instinctively ducked his head down and began walking away towards the desks at the front row. Delinquents liked the back row because they could slack off there without anyone noticing. If he stayed in the front, the teacher would be right there. So he planted himself in the middle of the front row, laying his backpack down on his claimed spot. He let out a sigh of relief, as he didn't hear the delinquents follow up with their talk, but he heard the desk behind him get occupied rather noisily, and he turned around.

 

Gonta had sat right behind him, legs propped up on the desk and arms crossed. His expression was still an unreadable cross between annoyed and bored, but he was staring right at Ouma. Whatever softness he had outside of the school was gone, and it was back to the cold and sharp edge his appearance radiated. He smiled in that forced, unhappy way again.

A large palm slapped Gonta on the back, and Ouma flinched as a punk with a strange cross of a pompadour and a crew cut cackled at the large boy. Ouma tried shrinking away as much as he could, because god knows he wouldn't be able to handle two delinquents, but his focus was all on Gonta in the moment. " Gokuhara, you dense motherfucker! What're you doing, sitting in the front? Your ass is so big, no one's gonna be able to see shit. C'mon, the guys are in the back, sit over there."

Gonta looked at him, the only change in his face being a raised brow. He kept the icy stare for a while, long enough for the delinquent's toothy grin to waver, but Gonta exhaled and dragged his feet back down. He seemed a bit annoyed at the fact he was being told to relocate, and for a moment, Ouma thought Gonta's gaze was on him again, but before he could make sure, the long haired teen was already walking towards the back, his bookbag slung over his shoulder and the delinquent back to loudly praising and insulting him.

"There we go, big guy! The name's Numai, and boy, I have heard some sick shit about you. Me n' the guys will make sure you're all set up, no one's gonna wanna mess with us-"

 

\-----

 

Ouma was forced back into the monitor room, cold and amplifying his breathless gasps between ghostlike echoes of his classmates. Monokuma still staring at the wall of screens and flipping through the channels idly. "Welcome baaack." He sounded like a bored housewife greeting her husband at the end of the day.

He hadn't realized how tightly he was gripping onto the chair's arms until he leaned forward. Ouma had to take a moment to pry himself free -ignoring how hard his hands were shaking- but he still managed to ball his fist up and shake it in anger. "What's the idea?! Giving me some kind of fake memories like that! You're a lying bear!"

"Kid... I'm the embodiment of despair and all the fixings that come with it. I may get you and your little friends to kill each other and stay in school forever, but I don't lie. Why would I? I don't have to. You're the only one who's lying here."

Monokuma fell backwards onto the desk, staring up at Ouma with an unchanging expression. Ouma could hear himself on one of the monitors, doing his fake crying trick. Ugly, loud sobbing. It wasn't his best display, but it was fun to make everyone squirm. He heard Saihara and Gonta attempt to console him, the whispered voice of the detective getting drowned out by Gonta's stutters.

"You know it's real. You and that Gokuhara punk. Not sure how much you remember right now, but you should know he's a big part of your memories by now. No wonder you kept bugging the kid. Upupupu... Bugging."

 

Ouma grimaced, biting his thumb and staring down at his other hand. It was white as paper, and made his sleeve look dull and dirty in contrast. He closed his fist tightly. "So you're making me remember and regret all of the things I did to Gonta-chan? I didn't know he was part of my past, how could I...? What would I have done if I did?"

Monokuma propped himself up by his nonexistent elbows and tilted his head at the trembling teen. A shaky sob escaped the boy's lips, a sharp inhale, soon followed by a giggle. "Nishishishi! That was a lie, how dumb! Such a superficial fact to get worked up over... It's practically worthless." He grinned down at the bear, resting his chin in his hands. "You're gonna have to do better than that to make me _actually_ upset!"

The bear groaned and let himself flop back down onto the desk. "You're an annoying brat." He sighed, smacking him with his paw-  
  


\-----

  
Pain blossomed all throughout his body. He was leaned over a desk and breathed heavily, the winter air sharp and unforgiving in his lungs. There was a sense of bitter anger in the pit of his stomach, and for a moment, he imagined the blur of fists and blood that got him there.

Numai, the guy with the pompadour crew cut. He and his friends caught him after class, when it was his turn to clean the chalkboards. A hand lifted him up by the collar while he was working, and his face was mashed into the dusty wall. He only registered Gonta's name and a thread of generic insults before he was peeled away and beat down.

Following the rushed recollection, Ouma began to remember Gonta as well. Throughout the semester, he lingered around him, barely dodging the corners of his vision and trailing him from afar. Drama club, lunch, between the bells and in the hall; he'd constantly be just outside Ouma's blind spots. His distinct mess of hair and crimson eyes weren't hard to miss. But there were no words and no eye contact. 

Every time Ouma built up the courage to try and approach him, he'd be gone or crowded by his clique. Whatever determination he had always shriveled up with by then, and god knows the skinny teen wasn't going to try and get through that. He liked keeping his bones intact, and besides, what could a theatre kid do to get past so much dumb muscle? Lie his way through their punches? It just wasn't going to happen. He'd go back to wondering why he would consider doing such a thing, and feel those eyes on him as he walked away.  

 

Like a brewing storm, Gonta loomed over him, his expression as icy as ever, and that's when Ouma's mind and memories synced. This was his fault. Ouma backed away as quickly as his legs could allow him without falling over, but Gonta kept the distance between them, his brows furrowed and teeth grit. The bitterness grew. This was wounding what little pride he could keep from the last encounter.  
  
"Haven't you and your friends done enough? Leave me alone already!"

"My... friends?" His head cocked to the side, but his expression was still foggy.

Anger raked its claws through Ouma's stomach. How dare Gonta feign innocence? The proof was in front of him, bloody and bruised and trailing his pain like a banner of shame. He had no right to try and play the fool now.

"Yeah, your friends. You see the blood, right? Your gang got to me, now just leave me alone. I-I don't know what made me so fun to mess with, but I'm tired of it! Tired of your weird cat and mouse shit! Just go away!" He could feel his voice cracking by the end of it, but Ouma was tired. He was tired and hurt, and goddammit he just wanted to go home, rehearse his part for the winter musical, and be the quiet theatre kid that no one bothers.

"I don't have a gang, Ouma-kun. I... don't have many friends either." His calm expression cracked for a moment. His brows furrowed together and he looked away from Ouma, but after taking a moment to compose himself, his face was unreadable once more. "You must be mistaken. I don't know what you're talking about."

Ouma's palm slapped the desk he leaned on, and Gonta jumped. The smaller teen's face was contorted into a snarl, and he hit his palm against it again, again, over and over until his hand was sore and throbbing. "Stop playing fucking games with me! Didn't you hear me?! I'm tired! Following me around, waiting to beat my head in: if you're gonna do it, _just do it!"_

 

Gonta had gone pale. His hands wavered in front of him, as if deciding whether to reach out to assure Ouma or keep a barrier between them. "No... ! I didn't- I don't want to hurt you. Never did. Who the fuck did this to you, Ouma-kun? Just tell me and--"  
  
"You honestly don't know?" Ouma slumped forward with a sigh, head bowed. This conversation was exhausting, and it wasn't even five minutes long. He welcomed the knock out, if the giant would stop beating around the bush already.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you." Ouma looked up again, only to see Gonta's fists clenched tightly, knuckles white. Here it comes.

"Numai. You know, the guy with weird hair you always hang around? Your lackey?"  
  
"Weird hair?" Gonta wrinkled his nose in disgust. "He's not my friend. But he did this to you? Is that who it was?"

"Don't say he's not your friend, on the first day of school you went over to sit with him and his dumbass clowns!" Ouma could feel his hands clenching back up, a mix of disgust and annoyance churning in his stomach.

"H-he said I was too tall to sit in the front. I didn't want to block anyone's view. That's it, nothing else..." Gonta made an attempt to smile, and like all of the other ones he had put on before, it was forced, but it fell quickly.

"Really? And why did he follow you around all those times after that?"

"I don't know. I mean, he's annoying, but it never bothered me much. I just let him, it's not like there was anyone else who wanted to be around me." His hands relaxed and nervously folded over one another. Gonta's gaze kept shifting to everywhere but Ouma, the grimace he had slowly shifting into a wobbly frown. A deep breath. His gaze flickered over to look at Ouma, then settled on the ground in front of him.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't think they'd do this to you, I just... I never got the guts to talk to you after the first day, but I thought you were cool. You helped me when I was stupid and left everything at home, but you didn't call me names-- god, I must sound like a creep."

Ouma stared at him, expecting a smirk or a dark stare to replace his troubled features, to mock him for letting his guard down. But no matter how long he waited, they stayed the same as he rambled on, his frown deepening, his eyes becoming watery.

"I-I've been trying to get the guts to talk to you again, but I always chickened out, o-or those guys always got in the way. I know you didn't like them either, because you always avoid them, but... You looked like you were having a good time with your friends, I didn't want to mess up and make you look bad."

The giant boy looked down at his feet, his brows knit together, sweat beading and falling away from his face. His chest was rising and falling quickly in uneven breaths. Suddenly he didn't seem so strong and steady... Gonta looked like just another vulnerable, nervous teen. Ouma crossed his arms, lowering his own stare to the floor.

After leaving drama club, he'd occasionally see something dart away, like a cockroach, almost as if it were scared of his gaze. He would dismiss it as a bird or a squirrel just leaving when it saw someone approach... Because it couldn't have been Gonta. The thought never crossed his mind. He was too cold and self assured in Ouma's eyes. And yet, wasn't he the one who came to Ouma for help when they first met? Even if it was only a few moments, Gonta wasn't the menace he seemed to be. Was it really the other way around this entire time?

 

"...I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, Gokuhara-kun."

"Why? If I paid more attention and got them to go away, you wouldn't be beat up. If I wasn't such a dumbass--"

"Knowing me, and knowing Numai and his clowns, it would've happened anyways. Don't blame yourself for that. " Deep breath. "I'm sorry, because I thought you were like them, even though you totally weren't. I assumed things... Which doesn't sit right with me. I'm an actor, after all." Ouma softened his expression and dropped his arms to his sides again. "And I'm sorry for yelling all that stuff a few minutes ago too. I was frustrated."

Gonta's head raised up a bit, eyes watery. He seemed touched by Ouma's apology, his stance relaxing... But his jaw clenched and a noise like a growl rumbled from his throat. It made Ouma stumble back a bit. Gonta shut his eyes, blinking the tears away, and balled his fist up into an angry, shaking mass.

"They'll pay for this, those assholes... Thinking they can just get away with this. Trying to use my name like it'll protect them! They just signed their own death warrant!"

The intensity in his eyes wasn't cold anymore. It was fiery, it made his crimson eyes glow like coals -as he ran and chased down both Saihara and Hoshi, furious at their hatred of his esteemed bug friends- and though Ouma should've been afraid... The passion warmed his heart. It was finally exposing the side of him Ouma didn't think existed. How strange; getting beat up was the thing that would get Gonta to open up to him.

Ouma limped towards the enraged teen, a hand reaching out to his face. Gonta seemed blind towards the movement until a finger was poking into the corner of his snarl, pushing it upwards into an awkward half grin.

"Slow it down. I'm sure they will, but do me a favor, will you? If you're really innocent, help me walk home. My legs are like jelly. "

Gonta stared at him with wide eyes, unmoving from the smile forced upon him. He stayed that way a few moments, then wiggled his head away, eyes still large from surprise. Ouma raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, I... yeah, I'll help you get home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I keep splitting these into more chapters, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for so long, and I didn't wanna get sloppy ;; As always, I welcome any suggestions or critiques! Thank you for reading!!


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